


At Least Some Mercy...

by notacollegeboy (Aaron_The_8th_Demon)



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Baby Mutants, Childbirth, Drunk Sex, Falling In Love, Guilt, M/M, Mpreg, Romance, inspired by another work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-09 01:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12877692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/notacollegeboy
Summary: After one accidental night of drunk sex, Logan and Scott must now face the consequences.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Guess I was Wrong](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875424) by [AndYetNotBeingDisenchanted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndYetNotBeingDisenchanted/pseuds/AndYetNotBeingDisenchanted). 



"Scott... no," Storm insisted, shaking her head. Her expression was annoyed but her eyes were worried for the man she loved like a brother. "Just... no. No! You absolutely can  _not_ let him off the hook for this one! Go find him and tell him he has no choice but to help you with this!"

"What's the point?" Scott shrugged, uncharacteristically defeated. He knew she couldn't see his eyes, but he was staring at his hands, which were clenched in his lap. "There's been all kinds of times over the last couple of years where I haven't been giving him a choice but he's done what he wants anyway. There's nothing that can make Logan do anything but what he's already made up his mind about doing. And... it's kind of my fault, too. I should've-"

"Scott Summers, if you don't stop right now with that train of thought-"

"But it's true," Scott protested, shaking his head limply and slumping even further in his chair. "I'm a teacher, I  _knew_ how this could end, but I just went ahead and slept with him anyway. I should've said no. I should've made him use a condom! I should've... there's all kinds of things I should've done, but I didn't. That's not really on Logan, it's on me. Logan... he is what he is, 'Ro. There's no changing him and I'm the one who was supposed to know better. Now I'm facing the music for it."

"You're such an emotional masochist," Storm accused, rolling her eyes. Then she sighed and scooted a second chair over, settling in it and hugging him from the side. "I know you don't think so, but you owe it to  _yourself_ to talk with him about it again. And we'll support you no matter what, you know that."

* * *

Logan chewed so hard on the end of his cigar that he had to pull it out briefly and spit shreds of tobacco off to the side. The wind danced across his shirtless torso and bare feet - he was sitting with his legs dangling off the lip of the roof in nothing but his jeans and belt, thinking.

_“We only had sex one time!”_

_“It only takes one time.”_

That conversation kept running through his brain, as if constantly re-arguing the point with Summers in his mind would somehow change the fact that this had even happened. Scott had been bemoaning his loneliness yet again, this time having crawled into a bottle of vodka, and Logan himself had downed six or seven of them himself just so that he could get sloshed, too. Then he'd fucked Scott through the mattress in his own bedroom, giving no thought to it at the time other than  _this'll shut up the little pissant for a few minutes_ and  _oh fuck yeah he's so fucking tight on my dick._

And now Logan had gotten Scott pregnant. Lovely.

He didn't love Scott and Scott didn't love him; hell, they didn't even  _like_ each other most days. Plus, in being drunk that night (a rare occurrence for Logan) he'd forgotten about the whole stupid "secondary gender" thing. Because for some reason mutants didn't just have their powers, but unlike "normal" humans and human mutates, they also had the whole stupid secondary gender thing which Logan knew little, if anything, about. Somehow there were women who couldn't get pregnant even though there was no discernible physiological reason and men who could. (Mercifully, Logan did not belong to that group. He thought Storm might be part of the first one, though.)

_“We only had sex one time!”_

_“It only takes one time.”_

Maybe he could gather up some words, duct-tape them into some semblance of a reasonable argument, and talk Summers into getting an abortion. Scott was a logical guy, so Logan just needed to come up with something sensible to say that would convince him.

Inexplicably, though, through the annoyance and disbelief that this was even going on, Logan was struggling with an unfamiliar sensation of...  _guilt._ Like that this shouldn't have happened and he could've prevented it. Why had he climbed into the bottle after Summers? Why had he forgotten the strip of rubbers he kept in his wallet for the nights he went prowling dive-bars looking for some easy tail? Why had he thought it was a good idea to just bury himself in the guy and forget the world for a little bit? And besides, even disregarding all of those things, and also disregarding the whole not-loving-or-even-liking-Summers thing, he felt bad for not even showing the guy at least a little tenderness or mercy. There had been no kissing or snuggling and barely enough foreplay to count for something. God, he was such a prick.

Of course he smelled and heard Scott approaching first. "Hey, Logan. Can I talk to you real quick?"

"You wanna shove me off the roof, Slim? Feel free, I won't even stop ya."

"What? No. I just want to talk, like I said."

Logan snorted, not looking and still letting his feet dangle over the side. "Bet I can't guess what it's about."

Surprisingly, Scott slowly approached and ended up seated beside him, though he folded his legs under him as opposed to letting them hang. "Look, I'm... sorry for doing this to you. I know it's not really the kind of thing you're used to dealing with."

"But... wait, what now?  _You're_ sorry? The fuck ya sorry for, Slim? I'm the one took advantage of ya when ya were smashed and didn't even wrap myself. I just... I don't know. The animal part of me needed to cum in ya, even though you're not mine."

"It's okay, Logan," Scott sighed. He sounded just about crushed and something about it hurt Logan on the inside. "I know you're probably still really freaked out about this and... you don't need to do anything. I can handle it on my own. 'Ro told me to come up here and kick your ass, but I'm not going to. I know you didn't really ask for this any more than I did."

"I'm kinda surprised 'Ro didn't come try to kick my ass herself." Logan shook his head. "Look, if it helps, I feel... I feel terrible about this, Scott. I'm sorry I did this to you."

"Don't be. It takes two to tango."

They were quiet for a long time, just sitting side-by-side on the edge of the roof, close to each other but not touching. It was Logan who eventually broke the silence.

"Are ya gonna keep it?"

"I don't know," Scott admitted, surprising him. "I always thought I'd have kids with Jean, you know. Obviously that didn't happen. I wonder what she'd say now if she was still here. Maybe she'd tease me like she did when we were still in school. I kind of miss her teasing me, actually. It made me feel normal."

"Slim, if she was still around, this wouldn't have happened in the first place," Logan pointed out. "For what it's worth, you'll be a good parent."

"I don't know..." Scott argued, slumping sideways against Logan a little in a surprising gesture. "I don't know if I want to, for one thing. For another, I just don't..."

"What?"

"No, it's okay. I was going to say something stupid."

"Now you gotta tell me," Logan demanded.

"I don't want to do it alone. I know you probably feel sick to your stomach at the thought of doing me a favor, but even though you're not even friends with me I'd really appreciate if you'd at least be a co-parent. You don't even have to be my friend if you don't want. And if that's not something you can handle, you don't have to worry about it. I can put the baby up for adoption or... or something."

"You actually... want me to help with this?" Logan questioned. "Slim, I don't know if that's the stupidest thing or the most flattering thing you've ever said to me. We both know I'd be a horrible dad."

"You know, I don't think so," Scott countered, still resting against his shoulder. "You protected the kids from Stryker. You stopped me from running out of a plane and into a lake like a jackass." Hearing the uptight-perfect-teacher-role-model swear made him chuckle a little. "You came back for Marie, just like you promised her you would. Besides, we all know that even though you pretend to be cranky and mean to the students, you secretly love them."

"But you  _really_ want me to do this with you?"

"I couldn't ask anyone else even if I didn't want your help. You'll be a good dad, Logan."

"What've ya done with the real Slim? You're not supposed to think I'm good at stuff or useful to you."

"You know I only said those things when we met because you were being an obnoxious, arrogant tool, right? And you were trying to steal my fiance."

"Don't tell anyone this, it'll hurt my rep, but... I still miss her sometimes. She was still nice to me even though I tried to strangle her."

"It's okay, Logan. I know you loved her, too. I'm okay with that, now."

"Uh... good, I guess. Thanks." Logan frowned. "Are ya just saying that to lower my defenses before ya kick my ass like Storm told ya to?"

"No," Scott chuckled. "By the way, she might still kick your ass anyway, so be careful."

* * *

The next couple of months passed by relatively uneventfully. There was a very awkward team meeting where Scott was forced to explain why he wouldn't be leading field missions for the coming future and in the process admit that Logan had to do with the reason why, which was met with mixed response from the other X-Men. Most nights after that, though, Logan found himself quite unexpectedly finding Scott during the evenings and just... talking. Sometimes about school issues, sometimes about mutant rights issues, sometimes about the kinds of programming the kids had been caught trying to watch on TV without being caught. Mostly, though, they talked about the baby. Maybe they'd schedule which days they'd take the baby so there wouldn't be any confusion. Maybe they'd eat meals together with the baby so that the baby could grow up at least pretending he had a normal family sometimes. Maybe Logan could be called "dad" and Scott could be called "daddy," or maybe the baby would like it the other way around.  _The baby._ They still referred to it as  _the baby,_ as if that was what the child's name would end up being.

Scott didn't look like he was pregnant, more like he'd lost his iron-gripped control and no longer maintained his fitness. Logan was feeling the strangest compulsions now, that he needed to viciously kill anyone who even  _looked_ at Scott funny and that he should press his palm or ear to the other's stomach to try sensing what was going on within.

Then, one morning Scott unexpectedly grabbed Logan by the hand and all but dragged him down to medical.

"The hell's going on?" Logan demanded.

Scott only smiled at him: "Trust me."

Hank was there waiting, which Logan didn't really mind. The furry blue doctor was probably the one who had the least objections about their little arrangement.

"Ah, Logan, good. Scott, you know the drill."

Summers obligingly laid back on the exam table and pulled up his shirt. Hank prodded him some and asked a few questions, then smeared some kind of blue slime across his stomach and pulled over a monitor. Logan sat quietly in the chair nearby and watched the shapeless gray blobs appear on the screen.

"What am I looking at, here?" Logan wondered, frowning.

"That's your child," Hank answered with a patient smile. "It's far enough along now we can find out what it'll be today if you both want."

"Absolutely," Scott nodded.

Logan was so intrigued that he barely noticed Scott reaching for his hand, and allowed it without protest.

"Are you ready?" Hank questioned, moving the little plastic wand slightly. "And... there we go. That is a perfectly healthy little girl. Congratulations, both of you. You're having a daughter."

Logan's eyes widened, not realizing his fingers tightened a little around Scott's. "Wow," he whispered. It was all he could come up with in that moment.

* * *

That night after they found out what was what with their future child they decided to have dinner away from the others, ending up seated on the grass outside. Scott, as was typical, was eating the exact right combination and portion of foods to get the nutrients their daughter would need for proper development while also keeping himself healthy. Logan was wolfing down three enormous steaks and a six-pack of Molson.

"So Slim," he began in-between bites of meat the size of his own fist, "given what we learned today, do we even gotta talk names?"

Scott didn't even have to stop and think about it. "No, I already know what her name should be."

They both offered a small smile, then Scott leaned into Logan's side and settled there with his shoulders wrapped by a muscular arm. Logan decided he liked the gentle weight against his body, that warmth seeping through his flannel. He almost didn't notice until he was already doing it, but Logan bent down and nuzzled his lower face into the soft, dark brown hair. Then, when he did realize his actions, Logan found that he was okay with this. His other arm curled around Scott as well, then slid down slightly to kiss the other's temple in a soft brush. Scott looked up after a moment so their mouths could meet, and they were kissing. Logan thought he was okay with that, too.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, people wanted more, so... smut! (I was drunk when I started writing this, so don't be too hard on me.)

**_A few months ago..._ **

Logan could smell the booze before he'd even got halfway down the stairs, which surprised him. Usually that odor was coming from  _him_ if he picked it up while in the mansion. Raising an eyebrow, Logan followed it into the kitchen and discovered Scott with a half-empty bottle of Smirnoff on the table in his fist. Well, that certainly wasn't what he'd thought he'd find here.

"The hell ya doing, Slim?" Logan couldn't help asking, paused in the doorway with his arms folded over his pecs.

"Whassit look like?" the other man slurred, his voice a mumble. Wow, the team leader of the X-Men was sloshed. It would've been funny if the reason why wasn't so damn tragic. "Goway, Log'n. Mtryna drinkn peace, here."

"Getting drunk ain't gonna bring her back, you know."

"Fuck you."

"You offering?"

Scott groaned and let his head crash down onto the surface of the table, almost knocking over his bottle of emotional numbness with one of his arms as he flailed. Logan rolled his eyes and snatched the booze away at the last second, then frowned at it and took a long gulp himself. It made him remember why he not only preferred imported vodka over this shit, but in any case preferred whiskey over vodka to begin with. If this was all he could get, though, he'd take it... and somehow this led to him practically inhaling several bottles of hard liquor while Scott sat across from him finishing that first bottle of Smirnoff. Logan had a hard time getting drunk, but as the walls around him swam and his body felt like it had turned to solid lead, he figured he'd probably managed to this time.

A clumsy roll of his neck pointed his eyes to the microwave clock, showing the time to be almost 1:30 in the morning. Damn, they'd been here for a while. No wonder he'd been able to get smashed. Staggering to his feet, Logan grabbed Scott by the back of his shirt and began dragging him back towards the stairs. He could barely move himself without doing a face-plant, but some part of his brain had rationalized that this little pity-party wouldn't end without some help. Given that Logan was the only one around, it would have to come from him.

"Leggo!" Scott whined, scrabbling ineffectively at Logan's muscular arm. All he managed to do was make a hole in the sleeve of his flannel tear open even further at the elbow. "Dammit Log'n, gedoffa me! This's sdupid!"

"Shuddup," Logan snarled, a little louder than he should've since everyone else was asleep.

He tripped on the third or fourth stair and dropped clumsily onto his free hand, bending his wrist back painfully and also yanking the other man down with him into a tangle. They both thrashed briefly, trying to get their bearings, but only slid back down off the steps into a differently-arranged heap on the floor. Logan was now slightly pinned with Scott flopped across his torso, and somehow he found himself breaking out into a fit of giggles instead of trying to fix the situation. Scott seemed like he was trying to be angry about it, but after a few seconds joined in until they were both laughing uncontrollably and holding onto each other.

"Ssshhhh," Logan hissed, pressing his face into Scott's neck to try and muffle another fit of hysterics. "Peopler tryna sleep upthr... Scott...! Get offa me ansdop laughin'!"

That only made it worse, both of them howling while trying to bury the noise in each other's shirts. Finally Logan got a grip on himself while Scott just stopped from being out of breath, and they slowly climbed the stairs, pulling each other along when they stumbled. They came to Logan's room first, which meant Scott would have to get the last twenty feet down the hall himself, but Logan no longer cared. He'd done his job and he was too drunk for more. Apparently, much to his annoyance, Scott had other ideas.

"Donmake me be by myslf Log'n," Scott protested, hanging annoyingly off his shoulder.

"Scooter, I'mma go jerk off nthe showr anthen sleep," Logan grumbled.

"Please? Donwanna belone rinow, aways by myslf these days annit sucks..."

"Uggghhhhrrr," he groaned, rolling his eyes and slamming the door open. "Goddammit, fine."

Logan shoved Scott hard on the back and sent the team leader sprawling forward onto his floor, then yanked the door closed and stomped off into his bathroom; he almost collapsed onto his face again when his foot caught the threshold. Yanking his clothes off, Logan didn't realize he'd forgotten to shut the second door until he looked up and caught Scott staring  through the mirror. Well, he thought Scott was staring. The glasses made it hard to tell.

"Y'see sumthin y'like, Slim?" Logan teased, turning around with his hands behind his head to make sure everything showed.

It didn't have the intended effect. Instead of looking away or even seeming remotely embarrassed, Scott only offered a goofy smile and proved that sometimes people were the most honest when they'd been drinking: "Yeah, kinda."

Well, then.

"Cmere'n do sumthin' abouddit, then," Logan smirked, feeling things already starting to take interest down below.

Scott, surprisingly, obliged without hesitation and with minimal swaying or tripping made his way over. Logan just watched stupefied as his teammate dropped to the floor and started blowing him. Awesome.

Logan couldn't put up with it for more than a couple of minutes because his already limited patience had been cut further by the alcohol. Growling with lust and so hard it was painful, he ended up pinning Scott to the bed, slicing away all that obnoxious clothing, and only just barely remembering that this would be extremely painful for the other man if he kept going about things like this. Well, he had his fingers for that, but the only lube was spit... it would do. Logan worked with these limited resources for as long as he could stand but was soon pushing his way in, slowed only by Scott's pained grunts. That brought some momentary clarity and once he'd gotten himself in he paused to allow for adjustment.

"Gets better," Logan panted, resting some of his weight on Scott's back. He was trying very hard to not just start reaming the guy like he wanted. "You'll like it soon..."

"Okay," Scott whimpered, clearly not believing him.

Logan began moving again, more slowly and trying to pay attention to Scott's reactions. He found the right spot to nudge against, which brought a surprised gasp that was clearly from a jolt of pleasure. Yes, he was on track now, jabbing into it with gradually increasing pressure. It made Scott start moaning and clenching, which drew similar noises from Logan. Such tightness and heat, now squeezing even better on him... he almost lost control right then, but somehow managed not to. He  _would_ make Scott go off first!

Reaching underneath, Logan found what he was looking for and wrapped his fist around it. A couple of tugs in time with his movements was all it took, but he hadn't anticipated that it would undo them both at once. The spasms from Scott reaching his peak were too much for Logan and he snarled wordlessly as it overtook him, moving his arms away at the last second because he couldn't hold his claws in either. That took away his support and he collapsed onto his teammate's body with a blissful groan, crushing them both into a sticky heap on the mattress. Scott was strong enough that it didn't injure him, though, and less than a minute later they were both asleep without pulling themselves apart. Neither of them, as the sweet blackness of drunken slumber found their cloudy minds, were prepared for the painful awkwardness that would come the next morning when they woke up still sandwiched.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, we'll have to stop calling her that eventually," Scott chuckled, cuddling the newborn to his chest as Logan was throwing on clean clothes for the first time in two days. "I think the other kids will tease her in school."

"Well, once she starts talking, she can tell us to knock it off," Logan grunted, turning and collecting their daughter from his partner. "Just don't feel right otherwise, so until then, she's gonna keep being 'Baby Jean.' Besides, everyone else calls her that, anyway."

"Logan..."

"Hey," he snapped, jabbing a finger from his free hand, "don't ya  _dare_ get outta that bed, Summers. S'posed to be resting and all that."

"But I have classes to teach and-"

"Hank's got your classes, now lay down or I'll tie your ass to the bed."

"I suppose there's no point in me telling you not to swear around the baby."

"None. Now rest."

With that, Logan re-situated Baby Jean in his arms and made his way to the kitchen almost exactly two hours since the last time she'd been fed. Secretly, though, he was thrilled. Proportionally, she was eating more than  _him,_ and he ate a lot. That meant she was healthy and growing, and his senses reinforced that notion because he could hear the steadiness of her tiny heart and smell that nothing was out-of-place for her.

Logan leaned back on the counter by the microwave as he administered the bottle, unable to stop himself from looking fondly down at his new daughter and smiling. She had his mysteriously color-changing eyes (sometimes brown, sometimes green, sometimes golden, or all three at once) and thick dark hair, though her little face was much cuter like Scott's. Logan had been told before that he was handsome, but his features would've been much too masculine for a baby girl. Apparently the genetic combination had agreed with that point.

"Wow, Logan, you're a mom! Can you believe it?"

"Shut up," he snorted, glancing at Rogue with a grin that stubbornly refused to be held back. "Scott's the mom, not me."

"Can I see?"

"Only if ya stop being a shit."

"Never," she laughed, crossing the room and peering at Baby Jean. "She's so cute! Who's powers do you think she'll get?"

"Hopefully her own," Logan answered dryly. "I don't like thinking about chasing a kindergartner with claws."

"Or eye-lasers."

"Yeah, or that. Maybe she can have one that ain't gonna hurt nobody, like your little boyfriend's..."

"Bobby could hurt people if he wanted to," Rogue countered. "I mean... not that he  _does_ want to, but... you know what I'm trying to say."

"Yeah. I just been thinking about it since we found out," Logan admitted, shifting Baby Jean slightly. "Maybe she'll be like Kitty or Bobby. Not like me or Storm or Scott or... or Jean."

"Or me," Rogue whispered.

"Ain't your fault, kid."

"I know," she nodded, smiling a little. "But it's not yours either, Logan. I don't think you mean to hurt people most of the time."

* * *

It took all of two weeks for them to figure out what was going on.

"Are you familiar with the term 'empath,' Logan?"

"Not really," he shrugged.

"It's the ability to sense the emotions of others through physical contact."

"Ah, so  _that's_ why she starts crying whenever ya hold her," Logan scolded, glaring at Scott. "It's 'cause ya worry too much, just like I said."

"I can't help it," his partner practically shouted. "Besides, aren't you even a  _little_ concerned that our two-week-old baby is already manifesting her powers?"

"Logan, Scott, please calm down," Xavier interjected, raising his hands slightly. "It's uncommon, yes, but far from unheard of. And Scott, he does have a point. You musn't fuss so much about your daughter. Remember who her parents are, after all. She's quite strong."

Logan resisted the urge to gloat or even give Scott an  _I-told-you-so_ expression, instead focusing on switching how he was holding Baby Jean because she was trying to make a grab for his beard. He wondered if it was sort of related to this "empath" thing, the need to touch and hold onto him how she did, or if all babies did that. Logan didn't really mind, though. It made him feel warm and tingly when they made contact, which he suspected  _was_ part of her mutation. She instinctively knew he belonged to her and that feeling went to him from her touch.

"So how's this gonna work out for us?" Logan asked, settling Baby Jean horizontally against his sternum and feeling her tiny fists wrap into his shirt. "Don't think she should be getting all my anger problems."

"It doesn't appear to be an issue so far," the professor smiled. "She seems to have calmed you considerably, if I may say so. But you should still make an effort to keep your emotions level, especially if you're holding her. And Scott, your concerns are perfectly expected and rational, but remember what I said. Your daughter could hardly have the potential to be stronger-willed with you two as her fathers, and that extends towards her health."

"I know, but... I look at Baby Jean and I get really scared," Scott confessed, wringing his hands. "I think about how things will be once she's in school, and how we'll have to leave her behind for missions, and if I get killed on a mission she and Logan will be all alone, and-"

"Scott, please calm down. I promise that there will be no shortage of people to help take care of her, or Logan, should something unpleasant befall you. And I also doubt Logan would let such a thing occur in any case."

"Damn right," Logan growled, then remembered himself when Baby Jean whined in his grasp and flapped an arm in distress. He tried to think nicer thoughts than ones about his partner getting maimed in combat and instead just focused on his daughter's chubby face, already smoothing over as his protective rage subsided. "It's gonna be fine, Scott. Ya don't believe me, just ask her. She said so, too, y'know."

That got Scott to smile a little.

**Author's Note:**

> It's really discouraging that this is my most popular work. This isn't even my main pseud, but for some reason this dumbass little thing that's less than 5000 words has 3 times as many hits as my second most looked at one and twice as many kudos as my second most popular work. There's so many things wrong with both those things that I don't even know where to start with them.


End file.
